I remember the deafening tone of red, spreading onto my finger. As thick as paint, suffocating. The wind blew past and voices echoed.
Have you any recollection of what you've done?
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Experiments + thoughts
PoetryA collection of writings, incoherent and full of paradoxes. Welcome to the depths of my labyrinthine mind.
- 5 -
I remember the deafening tone of red, spreading onto my finger. As thick as paint, suffocating. The wind blew past and voices echoed.
Have you any recollection of what you've done?